I do my very best to give Kennedy some space for the rest of the week. Enough of my friends from college have gotten married that I know how nerve-wracking things can be the week before an event like this. I believe Kennedy when she says that the mother of the bride has it all planned out, but when she texts me on Tuesday afternoon, it’s to tell me that Leah’s mother is in full meltdown mode over something involving a florist and an ice sculpture.

Is an ice sculpture really the most appropriate decoration for a wedding? ;)

I knew you’d understand… 

From Tuesday to Friday, she’s so swept up in last minute planning and fittings and emergency meetings with the bridal party that I don’t have a chance to see her at all.

Which is probably for the best, because the moment I see her I’m going to want to whisk her into my car and drive us to the airport. Nearing the end of August, the heat in the city is oppressive. On the drive to work, the buildings seem to hang over me, crowding out all the available space, and every muscle in my body cries out to be doing something on the verge of recklessness, or at least doing something that’s as far away from here and out in the free open space as possible.

With Kennedy by my side.

The only silver lining is that it leaves plenty of time open in my schedule to plan for our next destination. I’d forgotten completely about her friend’s bachelorette party, but after the way this week seems to be going, I’m sure Kennedy will be as anxious as I am to flee the city.

On Thursday night, I call her, and in the background I hear the soft hum of a sitcom on TV.

“Hi, pretty thing.”

“Hi, handsome.”

“Am I interrupting?”

“Only reruns.”

There’s a rustling noise, and then the volume on the TV goes down even lower so that I can’t even make out the laugh track. “Are you prepared for tomorrow?”

Kennedy sighs. “If anything else goes wrong, I’ll probably lose my mind.”

“This is exactly why frequent vacations are a must for sustaining one’s mental health.”

She laughs, sounding worn. “I told my boss today that I was going to be taking some time off. She wasn’t exactly thrilled.”

I frown. “You don’t go away very often, do you?”

“No, and that’s probably why she usually loves me so much. I took a couple of days off before Leah’s bachelorette party, but those are the only days I’ve been out of the office since…” She pauses, thinking. “Since I started working there, I think.”

“You’ve never taken any vacation days other than that?”

“Nope.”

“That is criminal. Did you tell her we’d be gone for two weeks?”

“I told her I’d be gone for two weeks,” Kennedy says coyly. “I’m not about to spread more rumors about the time I spend with you.”

“More rumors?”

“You do at least glance at the gossip sites, don’t you?”

“Not usually. Half of what they post on there is bullshit, and the other half is stuff I already know.”

“I guess we’ve been a topic of conversation.”

“Over what? The bachelorette party?”

“Over…jet-setting off on some kind of vacation.” Kennedy laughs again. “I never thought stepping out of an airplane was a photo-worthy event, but somebody thought it was.”

Typical. Some of the paparazzi like to stake out the airport in case anyone noteworthy flies in or out. “Did they identify you by name?” If they’re dragging Kennedy into the limelight over that, I might consider sending some of my people to have a talk with them about privacy and how miserable I could make it for them if I decided to be a vindictive person.

“No. I’m a mystery redhead.”

“That’s accurate. You had a mysterious allure to you that night in the club.”

She yawns again, and the sound of it fills me with a strange tenderness that I can’t remember ever feeling for another person. Not even for Andrea.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, pretty thing,” I tell her. “Get some sleep.”

“I can’t say no to that,” she murmurs. “Good night, Gideon…”

Then the line softly clicks off.

Kennedy emerges from her apartment building the next morning at ten o’clock looking refreshed and wide awake, and every single cell in my body is screaming that it wants to strip off the terrycloth outfit she’s wearing and claim her all the way to the Westbury Manor. As soon as she slides into her seat, I can’t resist raising my hands to her face, pulling her toward me for a kiss that’s like lightning and thunder and sex all rolled into one.

When we come up for air, Kennedy raises both of her hands. “Gideon, you’re going to have me all distracted and—”

“Wet?”

She blushes. “Yes, wet, for the entire day.”

“Would that be the worst thing?”

Kennedy looks at me, her eyes shining. “No,” she whispers, and leans in close to me again.

I hit the button to raise the privacy screen between the front and back sections of the car, and Kennedy scrambles over on top of me, straddling me in her lightweight terrycloth shorts.

“What the hell is this outfit? I’m not complaining, but—” I run my hands under a tight-fitted tank top that says MOH on the front.

“It’s for the bridal party,” she says, dragging her lips down the side of my neck. “Don’t ask.” She’s hot under my touch, her skin unbelievably soft, and she kisses me like we’ve been apart for months instead of days. “Is this what it feels like?”

I make a sound that’s somewhere between a question and an answer and tug her shorts down along with her panties, throwing them both to the floor. It takes only another moment to unzip my pants, letting my cock spring free.

“Being crazy about someone,” she murmurs into my ear, and her next move is to sink down on top of me, enveloping my shaft in one sensual thrust, taking in my complete length all at once. She’s right about being wet. She’s absolutely soaking, and I can’t get enough of it. I can’t get enough of her. The energy radiating from her is bright and clean and uncomplicated, like being in this car again has reminded her that she can cut loose every once in a while and the world won’t come to an end.

Or maybe she’s as horny as I am.

It’s a quick, hot fuck, and the moment I raise my hand to rub my thumb across her clit, Kennedy arches backward, impaling herself on my cock. It’s all it takes for her to come, her pussy squeezing so tightly around me that it pushes me over the edge into an orgasm so intense, so explosive, that I’m worried we’re rocking the car right off the road. 

The next thing I know, Kennedy is scooping up her clothes from the floor, putting them on, and sliding back into her seat, pulling the seatbelt over her chest and buckling it with a firm click. When she looks at me again, her eyes are glowing. “Let’s go to a wedding,” she says.

“Let’s go to the airport.”

She laughs, then grins, and my heart beats fast and warm.